


trouble in paradise

by seijuro



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble, M/M, domestic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijuro/pseuds/seijuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He found Nijimura on the couch with his head on the armrest and the cat in his lap. He was flipping through the pages of a comic book, and grinned when he saw Akashi. “What’s up?”</p><p>Akashi did not return his smile. “The Nutella is gone.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	trouble in paradise

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted from bps @ tumblr!  
> constructive criticism is always nice (nudges)

There were virtually no disadvantages to living with Nijimura Shuuzou. He was a responsible guy (Akashi couldn’t say he lacked the tendency to make messes, but he always cleaned them up) and a decent cook, and Akashi could always count on waking up warm and beside him in the mornings. Part of him swore Nijimura was half-furnace, or something along those lines. When he showered in the mornings and left the bathroom with nothing but a towel draped around his waist, Akashi was graced with a spectacular morning view. And if the towel slipped off sometimes by accident, well, that was hardly Akashi’s problem.

 _Virtually,_ Akashi reminded himself. Adjusting from a empty, large mansions to a cramped apartment that was hardly ever quiet took time. He had little to no qualms with their living conditions, but he was still unused to doing work with Nijimura yelling at a TV screen in the background. He wouldn’t trade living with Nijimura for the world. At least, that was what Akashi thought until he crept to the cupboard and found the Nutella jar empty. Only three lived in the apartment, and Akashi was damn sure it wasn’t the cat.

He found Nijimura on the couch with his head on the armrest and the cat in his lap. He was flipping through the pages of a comic book, and grinned when he saw Akashi. “What’s up?”

Akashi did not return his smile. “The Nutella is gone.”

Nijimura went back to looking through the comic book pages.  _Guilty,_ Akashi thought mercilessly.  _Guilty._ “Buy some more, then? The car keys are on the table.”

Akashi smiled, and had Nijimura seen it, Akashi was certain he would have wet his pants. Or cried. Or a mixture of both. “That isn’t what I’m getting at.”

Nijimura frowned without looking at him. “Then what  _are_ you getting at?” He began to pet the cat with one hand, securing the comic book with the other.

He did not deserve to pet the cat. “I want to know  _why_ it’s gone,” Akashi said, arms crossed.

Shaking his head fondly, Nijimura said, “It was eaten. Why else? If it’s that big of a deal, I told you we can always buy more.”

There he was, at it again: switching subjects.  _Guilty, guilty, guilty._ “I want to know  _who_ ate it,” Akashi told him, already fully aware who the culprit was.

“Are you sure it wasn’t you?”

Akashi swore he despised Nijimura in that moment. “Yes, I’m certain.”

“I swear you put around half the jar on your slice of toast yesterday.” Nijimura rubbed his chin as if he was deep in thought.  _The only thing you should be thinking of,_ Akashi thought,  _is your next half-assed excuse._

“Maybe,” Akashi said, tapping his foot, “but I know for a fact there was still some left after I had that slice of toast.”

“You’ve been working really hard lately,” Nijimura said. “Maybe it’s been causing you to forget things?”

“Unlikely.”

Nijimura finally put the comic magazine down, using both hands to pet the cat. As if it could  _tell_ something was going to happen, the cat leapt off Nijimura’s lap and prowled towards the bedroom. “I have some work I should be getting to,” said Nijimura.

Akashi regarded him for a long moment before sitting on his lap and pulling him up by the collar of his shirt. He felt rather than heard Nijimura’s heartbeat, and it thrummed like heavy rain against window glass. “Maybe you should have done that yesterday,” Akashi said, “instead of eating the rest of my Nutella.”

Nijimura had the nerve to grin, resting a hand on the small of Akashi’s back. Akashi could still feel his heartbeat. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, I do,” Akashi said, and leaned forward to lick the last bits of Nutella off the corner of his mouth. Nijimura shuddered, and the hand on Akashi’s back tightened.

He did not end up getting to any work.


End file.
